There was a friend of mine in Philadelphia going by a
drinking saloon one night, and he saw in that saloon a professed Christian
playing cards. He just took a pencil, wrote on a card, and saw a little
boy and said, "My boy, here is some money. I want you to do an errand for
me. You see that man on the side of the table where those three are playing
cards with him?" Says he, "Yes I do." "Well," says my
friend, "just take that card to him." The boy started, and my friend
watched him when he handed this card to him. What was written on the card was,
"Ye are my witnesses." The man took the card, looked at it, sprang to
his feet, and rushing out into the street asked the boy where the card came
from. The boy said, "A man over there gave it to me." But the man had
slipped away, and the poor man died a few months afterwards. "Ye are my
witnesses." Wherever you find a professed Christian going in bad company,
you may look for something worse.